Meeting with Dad
by pecannutespresso
Summary: Sam and Red hook up, but what happens with Sam finds out he has more family than he thinks.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is a combination of my own fanfiction and fanfiction of fanfiction. I will put author's notes on the beginning of the chapter when I do fanfiction of fanfiction. The first chapter is a fanfiction of FrozenPhantasm's Breakdown.**

Galina walked through the empty halls of Litchfield. Weird, that. With all the prisoners enjoying the accidental day at the lake, she'd decided to act upon her wildest daydreams. If it would actually work or not, she had no idea. Either way, she had to try. And from the body language he'd been giving her lately, Galina had a good idea that her feelings would be reciprocated.

Her heart thumped, faster than it ever had, as she walked down the vacant hall to his office with the shut door. What if he wasn't in there? What if the guards were all already outside? What if this had all been for naught? Or worse, what if he turned her down and punished her?

With her painted nails, Red rested her hand on the door, waiting for her heart to slow to a manageable beating rhythm.

She knocked, three times. Each time seemed louder than the last. And then, she heard his voice.

"Come in." When she walked through the door, he looked up and smiled. "Red, to what do I owe this visit to?"

"I, uh, Healy."

In all of her years being alive, Galina Reznikov had never once felt as much fear and anxiety as she did in this moment. Again, her heart raced, a surge that caused her vision to go blurry.

"Red? You feeling okay?" Healy jumped out of his chair, grasping her arm. That helped as much as water on a grease fire. His electric touch only made it worse.

Her body acted on instinct. Before Galina knew what happened, she'd reached her hands up to Healy's face, bringing their lips together in a bruising kiss. But once she'd gained control, she jerked back, blue eyes wide as ever.

What had she done? Kissed a guard. Kissed Healy no less.

It felt amazing, but she took a step back—unsure of the next move.

She needn't worry, as soon as her feet moved backward, Healy had a tight hold on her, keeping her stationary.

He lifted a meaty finger to the tip of her nose. In a flash, he had his door shut and the lock clicked, and was back in front of her.

This time, he clutched onto her, pressing his lips against hers in a passionate meld of two people. His hands drifted to the small of her back, sending shock waves to the pit of her stomach. She could feel her panties getting wet and Healy's erection pressing against her stomach.

They broke their kiss, pressing their foreheads together.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" She cooed.

"As long as I have?"

"Probably." They both started into a fit of laughter. Galina stood on the balls of her feet, kissing him again. And again. And again.

It was right.

Everything in the world was right.

Never in Sam Healy's wildest dreams did he ever think that Galina Reznikov would kiss him. He only dreamed that she'd even like him—but kiss him? That never felt like something that would actually happen. And here they were. Locked in his office, kissing like no tomorrow. Like a couple of teenagers not wanting to leave at the end of a date.

"All officers, all officers, we have a situation along the fence line. All officers, respond immediately."

His walkie talkie screamed. Over and over.

Of course their tryst would be cut short.

She sighed disappointedly, not looking into his eyes, but he lifted her chin to. He needed to know that she hadn't made a mistake. He needed to feel that what they'd done hadn't been out of a con.

"This—this isn't some kind of plan?"

As soon as he said it, her eyes dropped, a crushed look.

"No. Never. Not with you, not anymore."

Sam placed another soul-crushing kiss on her lips before sprinting out to the lakeside.


	2. Chapter 2

**A year later**

"Reznikov!" Sam barked. "My office. Now."

He gave her a look that she usually doled out to people—Galina had to admit no one had ever dared give her that look, and now she understood her power over people.

The small group of inmates that stood next to her snickered.

"Oooooh, Red's in trouble," jeered Morello.

Then Galina shot Morello a nasty look, shutting her up just as fast. What she could be in trouble for, she couldn't imagine.

Walking into his office, Sam shut the door behind them, making sure to be quiet when he clicked the lock.

"I don't know who you think you are, strutting around the kitchen like you could start your little scheme all over again!" His voice was loud, booming, but Galina already had him pushed back into his chair, and straddled his lap. Her hands ran over his finely pressed shirt—he continued barking at her.

In the hall, they could hear the other inmates moving on down the hallway.

He started to let his yelling subside, kissing her back. His lips danced upon hers. Down her jawline and to the sweet spot under her ear.

There was nothing sweeter than kissing here there and feeling the tremors rocket through her.

"Fuck, you are perfect Galina."

Galina gave him a sharp look, her lips curling into a smirk.

Sam had never seen her blush until they'd started their more intimate relationship, and he could get off just by thinking of it.

Everything between them had changed.

They were still correctional officer and prisoner, but beside that. He had gained a new form of respect from her.

"Last night," she whispered, "I dreamed that you had me bent over your sofa—fucking me from behind."

He lost his breath. Every time she talked dirty to him, he lost all control. Sam tangled his hand into Galina's red hair, crushing their lips together.

"I want to fuck you on everything at my house. Every way that we can think of."

"Tomorrow, my love. Tomorrow we can start that list." She leaned down, tracing his lips with the tip of her tongue. "But today, I've got to make sure my kitchen will be in good hands."

Galina climbed off of his lap, giving his hard-on a small tap.

That was all they had. Twenty-four hours and she would be a free woman.

She'd be moving in with Yuri, but her plan to keep her relationship with Sam still stayed. There were strict rules though. Many of the rules boiled down to Sam having to drive to Yuri's and they would have to spend date nights at Yuri's—and how the hell they would be able to have sex was beyond the both of them, but they were smart adults.

Her girls were heartbroken.

No more Red meant no more mother figure. And to a lot of them, that meant more than being free in the world.

That meant more than anything to Red.

Yuri, his new wife, and their twin one-year-olds showed up at Litchfield with a set of clothes for her to wear. Her own clothes. She could hardly believe it. And she would spend the ride to her new home in the backseat with her new grandchildren.

Before today, she'd seen them only twice before.

O'Neil released her. Walked her past the sign that declared no prisoners were allowed beyond it.

"Well Red, it's been a hell of a ride. Let me know if you ever get a new restaurant, I'd love to try what you could make outside of here. With real ingredients." The guard's face contorted. "Now I'm hungry."

"It's that diet O'Neil, you've got to make sure you eat, just eat healthy. And, I will."

The redhead shook hands with the guard.

"We'll make sure your girls behave," Officer Bell added.

Out of all the guards, O'Neil and Bell came right after Sam on her good list.

"Thank you," Galina gave them both a curt nod and walked out the doors of Litchfield a free woman.


	3. Chapter 3

The house was quiet. The lights off, Yuri and Angela tucked into bed downstairs. The twins, Nadia and Thomas, were sound asleep across the hall from Red's room.

And Red couldn't sleep to save her life.

There were no snoring inmates to lull her to sleep.

Galina was technically a free woman, but all she could think about was Litchfield and her girls.

Yuri had bought her a smart phone—why a smart phone and not just a regular phone, she still couldn't figure out why—and she stared at it. She put her reading glasses on, looking back at the phone. Her fingers tried tapping the screen, getting the numbers to light up.

It rang. And rang.

Then she realized how late it was, and went to hang up, but she heard a voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" The gruff voice sounded like it'd just woken up.

"Sam?" She was breathless. Unsure of what to say next. It had taken her near an hour to even call him.

"Galina? Is everything okay?" He sounded more alert now.

"Yes, I just couldn't sleep."

"Oh, really? They say that the first few nights outside of the prison system can be the hardest. Just, take it easy. Tomorrow is Saturday, I'm off, I'll bring over some rolls. We'll have coffee and relax." Sam rambled on as he did when he got nervous.

She could turn him down.

Tell him that now that she was out of Litch she didn't need him.

But that would be a lie. She knew full well that it would be a dirty lie. And she knew she didn't want to and couldn't survive the new world without Sam's support.

"I'll have to watch the twins, but yes, you could come over and we could watch them together."

There was a sharp silence on the other end of the phone before Sam said he'd be there in the morning.

"Maybe I should be the one to make rolls, you can come and enjoy them, my love."

"Okay, now sleep. Two one-yea-olds will ware both of us down tomorrow."

They said goodnight to each other, giving a second's pause before they hung up—like in-love teenagers. Red could already feel calmer. Resting her head back into the pillow, she watch the darkness surround the house and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Red looked in on the twins. Downstairs, both Yuri and Angela were up and about, holding down a variety of jobs, the new parents were working more than not.

Peeking into the bedroom where her grandchildren slept, Galina felt the pangs of motherhood flood her. Nadia's bright red curls framed her face, her plump cheeks a rosey red. Thomas' dark hair was a mess, taking after his babushka. He got the plump lips of her son and blazing blue eyes to match. He'd be a stone-cold heartbreaker when he grew older.

She tugged open the shades on the window a crack. Gentle enough to wake the twins, both of them stood at their cribs, trying to reach out to the other.

"How are my little angels?" She scooped up Thomas, setting him on her hip, then Nadia, balancing her on her other hip.

It'd been a long time since she'd carried two children at once. Once the three of them got downstairs, Nadia jumped into the arms of her mother. Thomas, on the other hand, flopped his head against Red's shoulder, sticking his thumb into his mouth.

She could smell him, still had that baby smell.

Yuri left first. He'd be gone the longest.

With a bottle propped in Nadia's mouth, Angela finished feeding one twin while Galina fed Thomas.

To her, it felt like the old days. Feeding babies. Watching her help walk out the door. But she had the babies. Her grandchildren.

And once Angela left, back tracking a handful of times to repeat orders for Red, the mother-in-law finally pushed her out the door. If she could handle the three boys and the café, there was no reason why she couldn't handle the twins. The fact that Angela didn't know Sam was coming over was something that she could live forever and be happy never knowing.

So what if Red had to call in reinforcements?

Her boys were spread out. A couple of years between each of them. Thankfully, just enough.

In their button-clipped cream onesies, the twins waddled around the house. Tried to go upstairs, but were thwarted. And just when she was going to dial Sam's number, he knocked at the front door.

Easy enough.

The two young ones and the one—not so young one—herded toward the door. She danced around them, not stepping on any bare toes.

Galina opened the door with ease.

There'd been no way to expect anything when he showed up, but Sam Healy loved the sight. The cherub-faced little girl made a mad dash around his legs when he caught her.

It was a first.

He'd held his nieces and nephew—but that had been over twenty-years ago. And this was Red's granddaughter. The little girl was different. She wasn't a new-born, but Sam could still cradle her in his one arm with ease.

"Sam," Galina sighed. A smile tipping along the ends of her lips. Her shoulders un-knotted themselves before his eyes.

Sam took charge. With his other arm, he scooped up the little boy, causing a shrill squeal to pierce into his ear-drum.

Something sparked in Red's blue eyes as she watched him carrying the twins in. For the first time in a long time, he felt elated by a woman's look. He was doing something right, this was what he needed to do.

The house smelled like cinnamon and sugar—the closer they got to the kitchen, the stronger the smell came.

Nadia, Red told him, wouldn't stay still for long. And as soon as her feet touched the floor, she ran around the room faster than her stubby legs could handle.

"I'll run around with them—" he cooed, letting the twin terrors peel around them like race-cars, "—but I get a kiss from my main gal first."

Spreading his hand on the small of her back, Sam pulled her in for a passionate kiss that sent stars to blur his vision.

Then he realized, it was pain. A blinding pain.

Nadia had her mouth open, pressed against his calf—biting down hard.

It startled him, but he tried not to move.

"Nadia!" Red yelled and dove into a string of harsh Russian words for a toddler. This time, her grandmother picked her up off the floor. This time, Nadia got three sharp swats on her bottom before she was put down.

Large tears tumbled after each other down her face. Sharp chin quivering.

Thomas stood by his babushka's legs—not offering any kind of condolence to his sister.

Meanwhile, Sam was still shocked that Red had just spanked the girl. He plopped down in one of the stools that surrounded the island. Reaching out for Nadia's hand, he pulled her up onto his lap, coddling her.

"That won't help her, Sam," Galina snapped.

"Yeah, so what?"

Nadia curled into him, almost a perfect ball, her head resting on his chest, hand clenching his shirt.

"I might not have any of my own kids, but that doesn't mean I can't spoil yours."

"Oh, gag me."

She did have to admit that seeing her granddaughter curled up in his arms made her uterus hurt. And she'd be lying if she ever denied having thought about a family with Sam. Being Mrs. Galina Healy. Watching her belly grow and knowing it was Sam's child. Sam, the man she loved. The man she wished she could have spent her life with—well more of her life.

"Galina?" Sam leaned his head toward her, trying to get her attention.

Now that she was out, her daydreams about being with Sam were coming true. And, just like a dream, it felt like it might end at any minute.

Sam pulled at her hand, and they all clambered onto his lap. Sam holding Nadia and Galina. Galina holding Thomas.

"Let's go in the living room." Sam motioned for Galina to give Thomas to him. This time, the curled up on the couch.


	4. Chapter 4

The twins climbed down from the laps they'd sat on to begin their morning routine of running track and field in the house. Which, left Sam and Galina alone on the sofa together. She situated herself, tucking a foot under her, and facing Sam. With her glasses perched on her head, Galina let her head fall onto his shoulder.

"Do you ever think about what could have been?" Now she let her hand fall onto his thigh.

"Always. What would have happened if I found you before Litchfield. Found you when you arrived and whisked you off to the American Dream. Two-point-five kids, watching football on Sundays, white picket fence—the whole nine yards."

"I think we would have killed each other."

Nadia pulled out a ball and began throwing it.

"No."

Galina looked up at him, eyebrow arched.

"You weren't always this hard-headed. I can tell. The stories you tell me, you were niave once." When her look turned stoney, he stopped. "But, you're right, we probably would have killed each other."

The day went on without incident, both twins ate their lunch, finished their juice, and were being put down to nap. Sam kissed each of them on the head before their grandmother. Together, they swayed with them as Galina sang a Russian lullaby.

And once their eyes started to slip closed, Sam laid down Thomas in one crib and Galina laid down Nadia in the other.

Sam went to walk down the wooden stairs, family photos swooping down the line, but Galina stopped him.

"Here, let me show you something." She disappeared into the doorway across from the twins' room.

Sam couldn't be sure what she wanted, and being honest to himself, he needed a nap. Instead, he found Galina standing at the end of her bed stripping her top off. The need for a nap disappeared and Sam closed the space between the two of them. His lips crashed against hers.

They fumbled over each other, each of them racing to the bed. Sam cupped his dream's noble jawline in his clammy hands, bringing her hypnotic lips to his dry ones. He tried to quick wet them down, instead ended up running his tongue over Galina's lips. But she didn't push him away—she took the opportunity and possessed his mouth with her own tongue.

Her nimble fingers tangled themselves up into Sam's snowy hair, keeping his face to hers. He spread his hands across her lower back and ass, shifting them both until he felt the push of the bed against the back of his knees.

Galina pushed him back until she could straddle his lap. Her succulent mounds heaved with each breath as her middle pulsated along his strained bulge. Sam clamped his hands to her sides, keeping her rhythm continuing. Without tearing her exhilarated eyes from his, she slipped her blouse off, tossed it to the side, exposing her milky chest.

In Sam's daydreams, Galina kept her baritone voice—the moans and sayings deep, like she always sounded. How she reacted to his hands gliding over her bra-clad tits came as a shock. Pure ecstasy exploded from her pale pink lips. A squeak that froze Sam in hit tracks, his bushy eyebrows spiking on his face. Never before had he ever heard such a sexy noise from anyone. The only thing he could think was tasting her.

His big, powerful hands braced Galina's covered waist, twisting them until he levered himself over her. The glow from the partially closed curtains covered her face. Terror and excitement radiated from her.

He grazed his lips across her rosy-cheek. Against his lips, he could feel her heart beat—the speeding thumps sent shivers down his body.

As the sound of traffic grew louder outside the window, Sam Healy slipped his hand beneath Galina's belt-line, and under her lace-panties. No sound came from her mouth, but as he inched his way closer to her hot sex, the muscles in her stomach twitched—giving her away.

"Galina," he whispered, his voice husky, "I need you to tell me this is okay."

Making love to her in Litchfield would be completely different than in a bed, out of Litchfield.

She nodded her head, but Sam needed more.

"You've got to tell me. I don't want to do anything you don't."

Those delicate fingers reached up to his face, bringing their noses together.

"Fuck me, Sam."

Those were the words he needed to hear.

His finger moved from her folds to the waistline of her pants. In under a minute, he'd pulled off her pants and shirt, she'd unbuttoned his shirt and pants. Just as he ran his hands along her thighs, his phone rang.


	5. Chapter 5

"Ignore it," he growled; gripping her hips and pulling her to the middle of the bed, where he could grind his raging hard-on against her soaked panties.

The phone rang and rang, each of them falling back into a rhythm together. When the phone stopped, Sam pulled her panties aside, exposing her clit. His muscular tongue flicked over her bundle of nerves. Galina shot upright, legs still spread, knees bent over Sam's freckled shoulders.

It started again, ring after ring after ring, and this time it began to get to Sam's nerves. He scrambled off the bed, ready to throw his phone against the wall.

"Hello?" He barked. The number didn't look familiar to anything around the state of New York. Whoever had the nerve to call twice would get their ass chewed.

"Hi, Sam Healy? This is Amanda, I'm your daughter."

And just like that, Sam Arnold Healy's life halted.

Laying on top of the comforters and sheets and pillows, Galina snaked her hand between her legs, her fingers dancing on her clit, her coppery bush dampening with her juices.

This was it.

They would finally be able to fuck like actual people. Like proper adults would.

She watched her fingers move over her sensitive parts. In her entire prison sentence, she'd never gained the courage to masturbate more than a handful of times. In Litch, she'd never been alone, and that meant she'd never felt comfortable enough to get herself off. Over the years, she'd grown to ignore the throbbing in her lower-stomach. Until Sam, anyway.

And now, now she could finger herself all day.

Shit, she could even buy sex toys! Something Dimitri had refused until the day she went to Litch.

"Oh, my god," Sam whispered.

"I know," she moaned, her head pressing back into the pillow perched under her head. She slipped her middle finger into her hole, feeling for that magic spot. And when she did, she arched back even farther into the pillow.

"What do you mean? Who is this?"

It snapped her from her desire of getting off.

Those words could mean anything—or they could mean everything. What if someone knew? Someone could have followed Sam right to Yuri's house. Anyone that had ever been suspicious of them could now know.

Galina dropped her hand from her pussy, all feelings fading away from her. She sat up, watching Sam, his reaction, movements, especially eyes.

His telling eyes that she could read, no matter what. That happened when they'd known each other for over twenty-years. He sat at the edge of the bed, clad only in boxers and looked away from her.

"Yes, I remember her—she what? I'm—I'm sorry to hear that. Yeah, um, I guess I could arrange something, or I could come there."

The longer that he talked, the more Galina grew confused.

None of what he said made sense to her. And, while she knew he had a life outside of Litchfield, a family she'd never been introduced to, something felt off about the conversation he had now.

When he—finally—hung up, she reached out to touch his shoulder, but Sam bolted to his feet before she could even get close.

"Holy shit," he mumbled. "Holy—fucking—shit."

Over and over again, the man who yelled at others for swearing, began spewing out every swear word that he knew. Russian and English ones.

"Sam, sit," she crawled to the foot of the bed, reaching out—this time grabbing his wrist. "Come, tell me what the matter is."

In the middle of the room, he stood still before joining her on the bed. Face white as the hair on his chest. His gray eyes glazed over, staring at the worn-down carpeted floor.

"I have a daughter."

"A what?" Galina barked, partially in shock, partially in anger.

"A daughter. I have a daughter. She's sixteen."

"Wait, you've fucked someone other than Katya?"

Sam chuckled, but she'd tried making a solid point.

"I'm not a hopeless case, you know." Sam flopped back on the bed, his head landing in Red's lap. "I was a football player in high school."

"Oh," she cooed. "I'm dating a football player?"

Both of their eyes flickered, but they softened just as fast. The words sounded normal, they actually sounded amazing.

"But really," she went on, stroking his chest hair, "a child?"

"Yeah." He squinted his eyes, staring off at the wall this time. "I never knew. I remember her mom, we had fun together, but—damn—she never said a word."

Maybe this rogue daughter was their sign. Now that Red finished her prison-time, she had Sam, Sam had her, Sam had her family, but she'd known he wanted a family of his own. It'd always been in the conversations about her family—not outright, but obvious enough.

"Sam," the thoughts grew more shocking the longer she thought of it, "you have a daughter."

"A daughter," he repeated.

"Holy shit."

"Yeah, holy shit." Sam spun around, eyes large. "I have a fucking daughter. I have to get her, Galina, you have to come with me."

"I can't, parole."

"You have to call me."

"You haven't even left yet," now she started to laugh.

"A daughter, I have a daughter. A daughter and a dead ex-lover. Sixteen. What do sixteen-year-olds even do, Galina? And a girl, no less."

"Shh," she rubbed his temples, letting the heat from his body warm her freezing feet.

"The flight leaves in a few hours." Galina straightened his coat collar with a pat on the chest. "And everything will be fine. You'll land and call me and tell me everything about her."

"I don't think I've ever been so nervous."

"Not even when we fucked in your office?"

He thought about it for a minute before shaking his head. "You won't be here with me this time."

"Be brave, if she called you days after the woman who raised her died, I don't think she did it to yell at you."

Sam looked into her glowing Atlantic blue eyes, the glowing depths of the ocean—and she supported him one hundred percent. If Galina could support him, then he could do it. With all of her love and compassion, he could do this. Even if he had to do it alone.

At five in the morning, Sam woke up—running straight to his woman's arms. Needing the reassurance, he listened to her soothing, husky voice until she started to force him out the door. It was like as soon as he entered into her eyesight, everything began to calm down. The last woman that had been able to do that had been his mother—when she had her good days—and he hadn't felt that glowing warmth in him for many years.

He'd zoned out, staring through Galina, thinking about his trip before him.

"Sam," she shook him from his daydream, "you'll do fine. She obviously wants to meet you, even if you are her guardian now."

Galina wrapped her arms around his round stomach, locking her hands behind his back. Resting her head on his chest, he curled his arms around her, taking in the minty toothpaste and lemon soap smell.

She leaned back, able to look into his eyes now, "I promise I will be here when you get back. And whenever you need to call me."

"Do you really?"

"Always, Sam."

He craned his neck, kissing her with a soul-bruising kiss. Exploring her mouth as if he might forget what she tasted like in the few days he'd be gone to South Dakota.

The thing that hit him—she kissed him back just as passionately.


	6. Chapter 6

The flight had several empty seats, allowing Sam to take up a whole row to himself. He needed that, wanted that sense of space from the other strangers flying to Rapid City. Who in their right mind would fly to Rapid City? Most of the other passengers looked like ranchers, their cowboy hats tipped down over their eyes.

Sam never wore hats, his hair became a knotted mess when he did.

He settled in, leaning his head against the side of the plane, able to look out the window. The sunrise would be behind them, starting as a soft glow. By the time they landed, it would be high in the sky.

In his pocket, Galina had stuffed a photo of them a few days after her release.

Her release, which had only been a little over a week ago. It felt insane she'd only been out for that short of time. But—if Sam had to admit it, they had spent a majority of their time together. Watching the twins and giving Yuri and his wife some alone time.

In a few hours, Sam's life would change forever.

With Yuri's help, Sam had gotten on a Skype call with Amanda.

She'd set up in the kitchen. Western décor lining the wall behind her. Mostly horse-related, with a touch of long horns.

Amanda's hair fell past her elbows—as far as the computer screen would allow him to see—and happened to be a few shades darker than his. 'Platinum' she called it. Done by bleaching her hair over and over. Why a sixteen—almost seventeen—year-old wanted white hair still boggled him. But she had his eyes, her mother's facial structure—thank god. For sixteen, she could easily pass for nineteen, or even twenty. Leave it to Sam to make a gorgeous daughter.

He'd been raised mostly by his brother and older sister—which left him to be the protected one, until they grew old enough to cause their own havoc. And then he grew up on his own, taking care of his mother.

There were legal papers that needed to be signed. Things that needed to be done—by him—since Amanda was still a minor.

How awful, he thought, having to call a man across the country to come take care of her. None of Carla's family lived in the area, Amanda had told him. She needed him to help her take care of a few things.

He would have flown out right away, but she said the community had rallied to help her with chores and school and getting the necessary things done. What needed to be done, he had no clue, Amanda wouldn't go into great detail. She didn't have to, he'd lost his mother, he knew what funerals involved.

Lots of people he didn't know telling him they felt sorry for him.

The difference being—Carla died from cancer. A strung out battle. People had rallied around Amanda for years, since before she could remember. But Sam's mother, the era, the disease, people felt sorry for him. They didn't feel sad that his mother had died. They felt sorry that he'd had to deal with it, even though none of them had shown up to rally around him. Help him out.

His whole heart wanted to bring Amanda back to New York with him right away—she'd have to eventually—but his head knew that hauling a sixteen-year-old girl from her home, friends, and school in the middle of the year, would be disastrous. Completely counter-productive.

Together, he and Amanda would have to figure it all out.

And Galina.

The plane arrived on time, a first for Sam. Every other flight had always ended up being late by at least an hour—something that had mattered when he'd gone to visit Katya in her homeland. He'd dreamed he'd step off the plane and meet Galina's family. See where she'd grown up. The places she'd sold candy bars. Where she'd had her first kiss. Where her best friend lived.

This time, he stepped off the plane ready to meet his daughter.

Every time he said it, his brain screamed the words 'his daughter.'

Once Katya and her mother moved into an apartment and Sam signed the divorce papers, he'd given up hope on having his own children. Especially once he'd divulged his feelings to Galina—having gone through menopause half-way through her prison sentence. Then, he knew, he'd never be able to say 'his children.'

But, as soon as Amanda popped into his life, anything seemed possible.

His daughter.

He had his own daughter.

And Galina.

And life turned out fucking perfect, for once.

The airport had only a few gates, since the next holiday loomed another month away, he could have counted everybody in the terminal and not hit triple digits. Everyone shuffled through the walkway, then through the gate.

And then—he spotted her.

One thing that Amanda hadn't told him, had been how ungodly tall she stood. At sixteen—almost seventeen—she looked him in the eye with ease.

"Sam!" She jumped from the chair she'd curled herself into. They'd only talked a few times, texted a little more, but she flung her arms around his neck. With her face buried into his neck, he felt her breath hitch, a hiccup.

"Hey, now," Sam moved them off to the side, letting the other passengers through. "I'm here now, we'll get this shit all figured out."

She unlocked her arms from his neck and stood back, nodding like a chicken. Her sparkling eyes threatened to unleash a flood of tears, but Amanda—literally—shook them off.

"Let's go," she chirped as she grabbed his hand. They rode the escalator down to the main level, where his luggage waited for him. "So, I've got all of my school-work for the week, so whatever we wanna do—we can do."

The Rapid City Airport had his luggage out as soon as he walked over. He had to admit, South Dakota impressed him already.

Amanda offered to take his laptop bag. She slung it over her shoulder.

"Wait, can you drive?" Sam asked once she'd dug a set of keys out of her back pocket.

She laughed.

Everything seemed to move slower and seemed more sparkly.

She was his daughter.

And he had Galina—oh shit—he pulled his phone out of his jacket, the crisp fall morning too cold for him to have acclimated to yet. He told Amanda to hold up a second, he had a phone call to make.

"Um, my girlfriend says hi." He felt his cheeks go red.

"Girlfriend, huh?" Amanda pointed to a heavy-duty truck off to the side. "This one 's mine."

"Yeah, my girlfriend—long story. And—how do you have a truck?"

The black exterior looked neglected, dirt and dust covering the bottom half, speckled up to the windows like a piece of art. Inside, the interior looked identical to the trucks that were advertised on the television, costing well into the five-digit area.

Even he didn't have a nice truck like that.

"From barrels." She stuck the key in the ignition and off they went.


End file.
